Frankie and the Newsies
by Medora Redtree
Summary: Franchesca was a girl who preferred the simple country life to the hustle of New York City life but when she is attacked and topples into the water. She wakes up in late 1800's surrounded by the Newsies just after the strike against Pulizter and Hearst.
1. Chapter 1

Frankie stared at the water gently wrapping itself against the wooden poles holding up the pier. She had only been in New York City for two weeks and already the bright lights and one of a kind experiences had left her with a headache. The chili dog and pretzel where long gone and her MP3 player wasn't loud enough to drown out the ringing. She had finally found an isolated spot full of sunshine and silence. She closed her eyes and sighed. She missed her cool lush valley beneath the creek and the farmers market where she worked during the spring and summer.

But that was gone now since she accepted an internship working as a secretary for her uncle's best friend at Taylor's Publishing House. She spent hours filing genres and applications. Frankie felt the burn of heat on her neck and shoulders and suddenly regretted sitting in the sun. The cool water about 10 feet below her look so inviting. As she contemplated taking a dive she heard foot steps behind her. Turning she saw a man limping towards her, holding a gun and a bottle of Jack Daniels. "Hey there sugar, wanna share a drink." He said with a cough and a hiccup. Frankie shook her head and began moving towards the ladder that led to the higher walkways.

"Where do'ja think you goings?" he asked angrily cocking the gun. "Get back down here and play nice." He ordered walked over. She had noticed that he wasn't limping any more and that the Jack Daniels bottle was almost completely full. He grabbed her leg and pulled her down, watching her hit the wood with a hollow thump. Frankie groaned and tried to crawl away but the man flipped her over and pinned her to the floor. "I told you to play nice, pretty girl." He said in a roar. He struggled to keep the gun at her neck and unzip her jacket at the same time. Frankie prayed for someone to help her but there was nobody. She had sealed her fate by forgetting how dangerous New York was in search for solace. A memory flashed in her mind as she felt the sun beating down on her bare shoulders and cleavage.

Keeping the gun at her neck, the man began unzipping his pants and pulling his cock out, stroking it for a few moments. Frankie swallowed the vomit rising up and bit back a sob. As he unzipped her pants and began slipping them down, now holding the gun under her chin, Frankie tried to hold on to the memory of her self defense class. When he was about to thrust inside her, she lifted her legs and kicked him in the chin and then the chest. He dropped the gun and held his injured body, falling back. Frankie stood and covered herself and reached for her cell phone.

She backed away from the man as much as she could and grabbed her bag along the way. She had forgotten how close she was to the edge and fell into the water below. The water stung her back and she couldn't kick her legs for a reason. She wasn't able to move at all. She tried to curl her around her bag and prayed it would be quick. She had accepted the darkness and had passed out when someone pulled her out of the water and placed her on the pier.


	2. Chapter 2

Frankie felt the bile raise up in her throat and she coughed in her sleep. The sun glared brightly in her line of vision as she stood up. Her bag was sitting beside her and didn't look as wet as she felt. Looking around, she could tell she was still on the pier but the man was gone. How long had she been in the water? Who fished her out?

Looking around for her cell phone and mp3 player she realized they were fried from water damage and probably floating in the water. She was rubbing at her eyes, contemplating taking out her contacts, when she heard loud male voices. Running under the walkway she wedged herself between a few low beams and waited. A large group of boys dressed in cloth overalls or brown pants were stripping down and jumping into the water below. She noticed that a few of them wore Newsboy caps. "I didn't know those were still in style up here." Frankie said to herself. She checked her watch but it was somehow stuck at 4:30pm. "Waterproof my ass!" she hissed bitterly. She saw that most of the boys ranged from what looked like 12- 20 but acted about the same. Frankie positioned herself more comfortably and figured she'd wait until they left.

It was getting dark and she was getting hungry. She climbed her way down to the opposite end of the walkway and shivered in her wet skin. Her clothes weren't dry yet and the heat of the sun was fading. Looking around she saw a large pile of rags wedged between some beams. She changed quickly and noticed that there were a few newsboy caps in the pile. Frankie picked the cleanest one and shoved as much of her dark brown and grey green hair into the hat. She couldn't check her reflection but she figured nobody would give her any trouble. Using the last bit of light left, she quickly inspected her bag and noted the loss of her phone, mp3 player and her New York map. "Figures", she thought. After putting her jeans and jacket into her bag she emerged from beneath the walkway in time to run into someone.

"Oi, watch where you going." The boy said in a thick old fashioned New York accent. He reminded Frankie of the movies about early 1900's and such. She stifled a giggle and stood, only inches shorter than he. She didn't look up but stared at the person's adam apple. "Yo Conlon, we got ourselves a mute here." The boy said loudly. He laughed and soon a larger group emerged from various parts of the pier, some wet and pulling on their clothes, the others looked as it they could use a dip in the water. The group was let by a boy who wasn't one of the tallest or biggest but carried a cane and was hold a slingshot. "Why do I feel like I'm in the Disney version of Gangs of New York." Frankie muttered as the group formed a semi circle around her.

Frankie backed up under the walkway and into the dark shadows of the beams as the boys moved in. "Looks like a spy." Said one. "One of those Harlems I bet." Said another. "Let's soak 'im." Said the boy Frankie had bumped into. She had a bad feeling that soaking didn't have nothing to do with water. They were closer than she realized and she was about to topple into the water below, again. "I didn't do nothing." She yelled loudly in as manly a voice as she could muster. She climbed back up into the beams and onto the walkway and started running. She didn't know where she was running to but anyplace was better than here. She heard whizzing sounds and then felt a sharp pain in her right calf. She let out a yelp as a few more pelted her back and legs. She turned to see what was hitting her and another one bounced off her cheek. They felt like rocks being shot out of a canon and hurt a hell of a lot like frozen paintballs.

Frankie didn't know how long she had run but she just ran forward. She found herself in a town square like area with a big statue in the middle. There were a few kids sleeping on it with signs that read "Strike" in various spellings. Her legs felt like jelly and she ached where she had been pelted. Her vision was hazy and her chest burned when she breathed. She stumbled forwards into the city, trying to find a place to hide for the night. Her vision was shifting and it made her want to vomit. She found a door that wasn't locked and she stumbled inside. It looked like the back stage of an old theater. "How many times do I have to tell you newsies, I don't do free shows." Said a woman with bright red hair and rouged cheeks. Frankie opened her mouth to explain and the world went black.


	3. Chapter 3

Frankie heard the humming of a woman in the black and smelled the sweet scratchy scent of a cigar. Her head felt heavy and her mind was hazy. She didn't remember what had happened. She tried to fight the black away but memories filled her mind and she was powerless. The attack played back and she cringed in her sleep. She fought against the imaginary foe and struggled to swim in the inky green water. She suddenly remembered the boys and the shooting pain as she ran away. "Don't soak me!" she yelled sitting up quickly. The room was small and seemed more like a dressing room than a bed room but it was cozy and filled with cushions and pillowed stools. The bed she sat on was soft and smelled like lavender and cigars. "Nobody is gonna soak you here. It's alright now child…Medda is here." Said the red head woman she had seen before she blacked out.

"What happened? I was running and then…" she stopped as the thick pain of hungry shot through her thoughts. "We'll talk about it later child, lets get you something to eat at the restaurant a few blocks away. I wont tell nobody you'se a girl if you don't want me to." Medda said with a bright smile. She waved a feathered fan in Frankie's face and went back to fixing her hair and her clothing. Frankie got out of the bed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She stuffed her hair back under the hat that hung off the side of the bed frame and slipped her feet in a pair of shoes that Medda handed her. Medda nodded in approval and lead Frankie out of the room and building. It was a short walk to the restaurant and there was a large group sitting inside.

"Medda!" they all yelled as the two women entered. Frankie lowered her head and moved closer to Medda. "Who's the shadow, Medda?" said one of the older looking boys. He had a red scarf tied around his neck and a cowboy style hat in his hand. "Oh Jack this is…." Medda started and turned back to Frankie who whispered her name and moved farther behind her. "…this is Frankie. He's the son of a friend of mine from the country. Just arrived yesterday, don't talk much I'm afraid." Medda lied with a bright cheeky smile. She ordered and paid for a drink and a sandwich for Frankie and after a few more hello's she left. Frankie pouted for a moment but when the roast beef sandwich arrived she forgot that she had no one and ate quickly. "Don't they feed you in the country?" Another boy said. He was shorter and had a cigar in his mouth. Frankie merely shrugged.

"He don't look like much, does he?" said a snide voice that was dripping with malice. "Why don't you go bother someone closer to your species, Delancy." Jack said crossing his arms over his chest. The man shrugged and left the restaurant followed by another who looked similar. Frankie let out a death breath and downed the last of her drink. She let out a loud belch and didn't excuse herself. She patted her belly and sighed. Frankie felt the stares of the other boys as she stood and fled from the restaurant. "Hey Frankie." Jack said running after her. She looked down at the ground and cleared her throat. "A bunch of us are gonna head to Brooklyn to see a friend of mine. If you'se gonna be in New York you gotta's know Spot Conlon."

Frankie walked in silence as she followed Jack, the boy who smoked cigars named Racetrack and a short boy named Les into Brooklyn. Les yammered on about his brother David who was in school at the time and really smart. Frankie smiled a bit and nodded periodically to let Les know she was listening. When they arrived at the pier, Frankie felt her chest tighten and the bruises seemed to ache more. She took a few deep breaths as the boys spit shook with the boy with the cane. In the sunlight she could see a serious look set on his youthful face when he looked at Frankie. She spit in her hand, shook his quickly and ran back off the pier, over the bridge and back to Medda's.

Medda was in her room, powdering her face and neck. "Back so soon, Frankie?" she said with a smile. Frankie glared at the back of her head and rolled her eyes. "If it wasn't so hard to make me sound like a man I wouldn't mind pretending. The spit shakes and bad manners don't bother me but everyone is always trying to look me in the eye. You can tell I'm a girl." Frankie said letting a few tears fall from her face. She didn't care that she wasn't home, she didn't fret over the fact that she had time traveled, she only cared about the fact that she couldn't be her tomboyish self and be a girl at the same time. "Why don't you be both? You look boy enough in that get up but I'm sure you're a sight when you're all dolled up. Let's see!" Medda said with a bright chirp. She was practically stripping the oversized clothes off of Frankie but she let out a small scream when she saw all the bruises on her back and legs. "My dear, what happened to you?" Medda gushed placing a cold wet cloth on her bruises. Frankie explained what had happened, leaving out the time travel as Medda placed a cool ointment that smelled like mint onto her skin.


	4. Chapter 4

_**"Why don't you be both? You look boy enough in that get up but I'm sure you're a sight when you're all dolled up. Let's see!" Medda said with a bright chirp. She was practically stripping the oversized clothes off of Frankie but she let out a small scream when she saw all the bruises on her back and legs. "My dear, what happened to you?" Medda gushed placing a cold wet cloth on her bruises. Frankie explained what had happened, leaving out the time travel as Medda placed a cool ointment that smelled like mint onto her skin.**_

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_I had alot of fun with this chapter. I got bored and decided that there should be singing.It was that or write my midterm essay. I dont own Newsies...sadly._

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_When you wear caps and smudge your face_

_When you wear knickers and smoke cigars_

_Down in the muck is the only place_

_Fighting for meals and sleeping few hours_

Frankie's head shot up as she heard Medda singing to some imaginary music. But then it filled her mind as well. It was peppy and sounded like old vaudeville style. "Oh you've got to be kidding me." She said as Medda spun around hold a feather boa.

_This isn't a joke dear child_

_Your game has consequences_

_These bruises will be_

_The only jewelry_

_If this is the path you take_

Frankie rolled her eyes as Medda sauntered back over to her. But when she opened her mouth to she heard herself singing.

_**I'm not the kind of girl**_

_**Who runs at a few scraps**_

_**I don't drool over money or jewels**_

_**In my world, in my life**_

_**Independence will rule**_

"_I am not singing. I am not singing."_ Frankie thought over and over again. The song was filled her body, drowning out her thoughts and mocking her resistance to dance. Medda was waltzing around the room, dancing to the music that had increased the tempo. They moved towards the back of the theater as Medda took over singing.

_This isn't a joke dear child_

_Your game has consequences_

_These bruises will be_

_The only jewelry_

_If this is the path you take_

_You may think you know it all_

_But I've been here a while_

_This here town responds quite well_

_To feminine wiles _

_**I'm not a fool looking for a thrill**_

_**Not that lost soul, young and naïve**_

_**I've been in the world, I've seen a few things**_

_**It aint so bad and it don't scare me**_

Frankie put her hands on her hips as the music abruptly stopped. "Well that works." She said as Medda sighed and threw her hands up in defeat. "So what's your real name?" Medda asked walking back into her room. "Francesca Marie," Frankie said with a groan. Medda smiled at the name and pulled out a few of an old performer's dresses and threw them at Frankie. "Now take off that had and let me have a look at you after a bath." Medda ordered snatching the hat off of Frankie's head. After about 15 minutes, there was a hot bath waiting for her. She was grateful for the bath after having to heat the water and lug it and the tub down to Medda's room. She slipped into the water and sighed. Her aches calmed as she soaked and she eventually began scrubbing away the events of the last days.


	5. Chapter 5

As to answer some questions, in my rendition she has never seen the movie or at least doesnt remember it.

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After drying herself off, she called Medda back into the room. With her help she slipped into a dress made of purple and grey fabric. Medda was gushing over her hair when there was a knock at the door. "You go answer it, I'm gonna lay down for a bit." Medda said with a bright and encouraging smile. Frankie looked in the mirror and rolled her eyes at the dress before smoothing her hair down and pulling at the ribbons. She opened the door slightly and saw that it was Racetrack, Jack, Les and a boy who wore glasses and a bowler hat. They all removed their hats when they saw Frankie and nodded their head in respect. She bit back a scoff and smiled. "Good afternoon Miss, we were just looking for Frankie. He don' run off after meeting Spot Conlon." Jack said with a toothy grin.

Frankie opened her mouth to tell them she didn't know where he was when she felt a pinch from behind. She turned around to see Medda holding a bit of money and motioning for her to leave. "Um….I don't know where my brother is but I wouldn't mind helping find him." Frankie said feeling the coin purse slip into her hand. "But you're a girl." Les said moving the hat out of his eyes. "And your point?" Frankie said with a small glare. "What my friend is trying to say is that we might be looking for your brother in some dangerous places and I…er…we don't want nothing to happen to you." Racetrack said with a smile. "If I needed people trying to keep me out of trouble, I would have stayed in the country." Frankie said lifting up her chin and walking out of the theater. The four boys followed her where she was greeted by non other than Spot Conlon.

"Spot, what are you doing out of Brooklyn." Jack asked. Frankie glared at him unconsciously and held her tongue. "Got'sa spy floating around. Wanted to talk to that new boy I met earlier." Spot said noticing the glaring girl. "Well will you look at the mug on her." He whispered to Jack, moving closer to get a better look. "And you are?" he said bending down to kiss her hand. "This is Frankie's sister…..er….What's your name dollface?" Jack asked moving between Spot and Frankie. "Francesca Marie but everyone calls me…..Marie." Frankie stammered, inwardly cringing at her middle name.

"Well it's a pleasure to meet you, Francesca Marie. You should visit Brooklyn sometime soon." Spot said locking eyes. Frankie felt a strange pressure in her chest and the churning of lust in her stomach. She held the stare nonetheless. "Well Jacky boy, if you find this brother of her's let me know. Any man related to such a beauty is alright with me." Spot said finally breaking the gaze and looking back at the boys. He nodded to them all and walked off. "Looks like you got a way with men, Miss Francesca Marie." The boy who wore glasses said. She discovered later as she walked with Les, that his name was Specs. Les talked her ear off again but this time she was more vocal in the conversation though the subject was identical. He mentioned his sister Sarah, who Jack was sweet on.

The five searched for a few hours, meeting the rest of the Newsies crew and Denton, the reporter. He commented on her green and black curls and gave her his card. Frankie was actually having some fun when they arrived back at Medda's. "I'm sorry I couldnt be of more assistance. If my brother shows up I'll send him your way. Where did you say you were going?" She asked batting her eyes at Racetrack. Les pulled at her skirt before Racetrack could answer. She bent down and leaned in to hear Les' whispers. "The Newsies are gonna head to Brooklyn for a get together with Spot and his gang. Me mother says I cant go and they's dont know I know." he finished with a confident nod. Frankie smiled and kissed his cheek in reward for the information. She cant have Conlon thinking that she was a spy.

She waited over and hour before she snuck out to follow the boys. Medda was doing her show and she didnt ask for the coin purse back.She lit a cigar and blew the smoke over the clothes to hide her feminine scent. She slipped back into her boy clothes and emptied the change into the pocket. Stuffing the curls under the hat she glanced in the mirror and pulled the hat low over her eyes. It was a long walk to Brooklyn in the silent dark but she soon saw the light from a few fires and the sound of bottles breaking. She stood in the shadows until she picked out Specs and Higgins engaged in a game of cards with Spot and another boy. Jack was wrestling with Les and David was trying to not have fun and learning to shoot a slingshot. After a small pep talk and a few deep breaths she donned the manliest voice she could muster and walked out of the shadows. She saw that the boy she didnt know had thrown down his cards and left the table so she moved to his spot and sat down. "Mind if I join" she squeaked. She cleared her throat again and tried to look at Specs and Racetrack but they were looking at Spot.

Spot nodded and dealt the cards out. "The game is poker, the bid is 1 bit, cant play dont sit." he said glaring at Frankie. So much for_ "Any man related to such a beauty is alright with me", _Frankie thought. She made it through six games without losing. It was alot like Texas Hold'em. She had always been good at cards but she never gambled. "This is too much for me. I need some money for tomorrow's papes. Come on Specs, lets get a drink."Racetrack said throwing his cards down. Frankie felt herself grin from ear to ear as she scooped up the coins and shoved them in her pocket. "Not so fast there Frankie." Spot said with a glare. "Aint nobody that good at cards. I dont like cheaters." he added loudly. "I aint no cheat!" Frankie squeaked. "Now look here, Spot found himself a cheater. Let's soak him!" said someone behind Spot. "Now lets not get hasty." Jack said walking up. "Shut your gob Sullivan." Spot sneered.


	6. Chapter 6

Frankie glared at Spot and tried to hold on to her manly voice. "I see its ok to sweet talk me sister but when things don't go my way I'm automatically a cheater." She growled stepping away from the table. She wanted to grab the rest of her money but decided against it. She was not in a friendly group. "Lets just calm down. There has to be a reasonable explination for this." David said moving to the front of the crowd. "Shut your mouth Brainiac. Aint nobody talking to you'se." Spot said spitting a loogey at his feet.

Frankie rolled her eyes as Spot turned to talk to one of his crew. Before she knew it, he had turned around and punched her in the gut. She bit her tongue at the sharp tongue. The roar of the cackling fire filled her ears along with the sound of blood pumping. She saw bright white dots floating in her vision as her legs buckled. "You hit me!" she said as she struggled to breathe.

She struggled to her feet and looked at the group. Spot was close enough for her to land a blow. She whipped her leg around and connected to his side. She kicked her other foot into his gut and swung two wide hooks, only one landing on the end of his jaw. The rough sound of bone hitting bone sent chills down her spine as the pain sent a heated sensation up her arm. Before she could stop herself she shot her leg out and connected between his legs. He let out a gasp and dropped. Spot was sprawled out on the ground, coughing and holding his groin.

"He hurt Conlon! Get him!" The crowd roared trying to land punches on her. She curled up in a pile and let her sides and back take most of it, protecting her middle. She cried out and felt the sobs come. She tasted the blood as it oozed out of her lip and jaw. The old bruises sprung back to life, sending white bursts of lighting into the black of her closed eyes. The assault stopped suddenly but she stayed curled up. "Francesca?" Jack said coming to her side. Frankie's head slowly rose to see a bewildered Spot Conlon and a surprised group. "Who is Francesca?" David asked. Jack and David were both sporting nasty welts and the beginnings of black eyes. Les's shirt was ripped. "She's Frankie's sister." Les said with a angry look. He turned to Spot and the group. "You beat up a girl?!" He yelled.

"I didn't know she was no girl. She didn't dress like no girl. Thought she was that snake brother of hers." Spot said holding his hands up. "I am Frankie." She hissed through the pain. "You're a boy." Racetrack said. "No you buffon. There was no Frankie, was there Francesca? Frankie is Francesca. You dressed up like one of us." Jack said helping Frankie to her feet. She nodded holding her side. They left after that, David and Jack helped her make it to the theater, where Medda was waiting. "Oh my goodness, what happened to her now?" Medda said with a sad shake of her head. "You knew she wasn't a boy." Les asked. "Of course I knew." She said pulled a wet rag out of a bowl of water. She wiped the dirt off Frankie's face and dabbed at her lip. "Second day and you get bea up again. I told you, when you dress like a boy, you'd get treated like one." Medda said , brushing dust out of her hair. "What do you mean, again?" David asked, putting down the feather boa he was holding.

"Remember when Conlon said he saw a spy the other night. Him and his boys pelting some guy with marbles as he ran out of Brooklyn. I think that was Francesca." Jack said putting his head in his hands. Frankie just stared blankly at the floor. She had no more tears to cry and everything hurt. "I'm tired," she said, _of pretending, _the last part to her self. "I think you boys better leave. She's had a long day. You can come back tomorrow if she wants you to."Medda said shooing them out of the room. Frankie crawled into the bed she had been sitting on and fell asleep instantly.


	7. Chapter 7

When Frankie woke it was late afternoon. The bruises and sores were angry and stung while she moved. She looked in the mirror and shuddered. She looked like she had gotten hit by truck. She took a cold bath and dressed in a simple white blouse and green dress. There was a knock on Medda's door but she wasn't around so Frankie answered it. A tall girl with dark brown hair answered the door. "Hi I'm…oh my goodness, Les told me they beat you good but my lord…" she trailed off. This must be Sarah, Frankie thought. Sarah sat with her and prattled on about Jack and the strike. The story was actually very fascinating and it took her mind off of the embarrassment and the pain. "Well I have to go to work but I brought you these old things of mine and my mothers. They are too small for us both but they should fit you well enough. "Sarah said with a sincere smile.

When Sarah was gone, Frankie went back to bed. She spent the next few weeks in the theater, cleaning up and helping Medda with her shows. She tried to keep her mind off the fact that none of the newsies had come to visit her and her mind kept going back to Spot for some strange reason. The bruises were finally gone and Frankie had finally gotten the hang of the time period though she dressed like a newsie around the theater. She hated dresses.

It had been exactly three weeks since her run in with Brooklyn before she ventured out of her hideaway. She washed her hair and let it fall in waves and slipped on a white dress shirt and a black skirt. She resisted the urge to put on a hat and left the theater. The bright sun hit her eyes and she squinted. The sidewalks were crowded and the streets were full of carts and newsies selling papers. She hadn't really thought of where she was going but she found herself drifting towards Brooklyn. "I deserve and apology." Frankie said aloud, marching with a purpose across the bridge. She had no bruises to ache this time around. She spotted him instantly, leaning smugly against a pillar while his minions cannonballed into the river. He had taken his hat off, letting his brown hair shine like rough silk in the sunlight.

"Spot Conlon!" she shouted, relieved that her voice hadn't shook and that it was her own. He looked up instantly and squinted before realizing who it was. The look of surprise only fueled Frankie's anger. "You lost dollface?" he asked walking up to her. A small group formed behind him as he made his way over. "Not really. I wanted to talk to you." Frankie said locking eyes. She got the burn in her stomach again but she rode it off as a side effect of anger. "Is that so? Well what is it you want me to here. I'm a busy man, _Miss_ Frankie" he sneered. "I don't care if the President of the United States wanted to speak with you this instant. _You_ own me an apology. I'd refresh your memory but I'm going to assume you don't tell you posse to beat up defenseless girls everyday!" Frankie said louder than she wanted.

Spot glared in her direction before motioning for the group to disperse and for her to follow him. There was a section without anyone around. There was more shade and she could see him clearly without squinting. He whipped around once they were alone and Frankie took a step back. "I remember that night and you weren't no defenseless girl, _Frankie_." He snapped. He was close to her face and she felt herself blush. She stared at the ground and the anger ebbed away. "I-I-I…" She stammered looking up past her curls. His face was screwed up in a frown and his chin was jutting up. His face softened when their eyes met and he led her to a crate. She said down and he kneeled beside her.

"Ok, here's the deal, dollface, I didn't know you were a girl and maybe my temper got the best of me but you're alright." He said putting his hands on her shoulders. "I've been healing. Its been a month Spot. I have welts and bruises and a spit lip. Sarah swore when she saw me. That's what your temper did to me." She snapped standing up.

_You cant tell me that its alright_

_You cant spout simplicities_

_I may not have the bruises anymore_

_But it still hurts the same to me_

_Why do I have be a MAN_

_For you not call me…Dollface_

_Why so I have bat my eyelash_

_Just to get you to look at me_

_You cant tell me that its alright_

_That it should be forgiven_

_I may not have the bruises anymore_

_But I'm still hurting_

The sliver of a song seeped out before Frankie could catch herself. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Look Spot, I'm not saying I don't forgive you but if you felt bad at all why didn't you just come down there and apologize." She asked pulling on a curl. "Spot Conlon apologizes to nobody." He said puffing out his chest. "Well maybe he should learn." Frankie said turning to leave. "Wait a minute." He spat out grabbed her arm and pulled her back. She collided with his chest and tried to move but he held her still. "I aint used to girls like you'se ok. I don't know how to act. You can fight like a boy but you're the prettiest thing I've seen since me mother." He said with wide doe eyes. "That doesn't give you an excuse not to apologize. You cant order me around Spot. I'm not one of your crew." Frankie said struggling against his grip.

His lips came down fast and hard against hers. She was reacting to it before she realized it. She pulled his bottom lip between her teeth and flicked with her tongue before she nibbled at it. He backed her up and she found herself pinned against a pillar. He pulled away, breathing heavily, his brown hair falling into his face. "I'm sorry." He whispered, moving his face closer til their noses touched. "About beating me up or kissing me?" Frankie asked. "I'd only be sorry about kissing you if you didn't like it." He said and leaned in, this time with a gentle kiss. Frankie moaned against his mouth as he deepened the kiss. The burn grew and her skin felt like it was on fire. She pulled away this time and raced out of Brooklyn.

**Author's Note:** Sorry for taking so long to update…I suck I know. It was hectic this summer but I promise to update more.


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